High-end croquetas really are the sherry on top

Ihad a curious conversation with a waiter in Dublin’s latest tapas restaurant the other day. I had looked at the wine list, which is very good and entirely Spanish as it should be, but noticed the absence of sherry. ‘Do you have any sherry,?’ I asked. ‘Sherry?’ He looked puzzled. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You know, vino de Jerez.’

‘Jerez?’ he said, even more puzzled. ‘No, we don’t have any of… er… that.’

So I asked if I could have a browse in the shop, this being the excellent A Taste of Spain that sells all manner of Spanish produce, even toiletries. I explained that I was waiting for someone to join me.

Just around the corner from where this exchange occurred, the first thing I saw was an excellent little selection of – you’re way ahead of me – sherry. Proper sherry, the dry stuff. So I plucked a half bottle of Valdespino Deliciosa Manzanilla from the shelf at €13.50 and asked if I could buy it and drink it with lunch.

‘No problem,’ said the waiter who, it transpired, is from the sherry-less north of the country.

Okay, it wasn’t chilled but it was a cold day and the Manzanilla – dry and slightly salty as it should be – was delicious. I was offered a choice between a large tumbler and a big balloon-like wine glass and opted for the latter. It was no hardship, even though I would normally expect a copita.

Having overcome this hurdle, and now joined by my lunch companion, we set to the serious matter of eating and I have to say we did well.

We kicked off with wafter thin slices of cured beef shin or ‘cow leg’ as the menu puts it picturesquely, drizzled with peppery olive oil, served with those tiny, crunchy bread sticks known as picos Sevillanos (€11.50). This was good.

Then it was time for some croquetas (€6.95). We had the classic jamon version with plenty of chewy ham, actually much more than usual, which was a very pleasant bonus; and a basque version based on salt cod. Both were crisp and dry outside and creamy and packed with flavour within. Full marks.

From here we graduated to the classic tortilla (€5.50), that combination of potato, onion and egg – but no garlic, whatever Jamie Oliver might have to say about it. This potato cake, in a sense, was appropriately browned on the outside but still a little molten in the middle. I have a feeling that this was slightly tweaked for Irish tastes as the best examples I’ve had in Spain are really quite runny. It was good if not great, as Eamon Dunphy would have it.

It was time to have some prawns: two kinds, gambas pil pil (€9.50), garlicky and spicy, and al ajillo (€9.25), just garlicky. These were decent dishes and with copious olive-y, oily juices mopped up with bread.

Having well-honed appetites, and no breakfast in my case, I was determined to revisit huevos rotos con patatas y jamon (€7.50), a dish I first encountered in a very traditional neighbourhood tapas bar in Madrid where, unusually, my appearance

THIS WAS A LOVELY, SIMPLE WARMING DISH ON A COLD JANUARY DAY

reduced the average age by a considerable margin. And where the black and white photographs on the walls all seemed to feature the late and not much lamented General Franco. It was the kind of place where the buzz of conversation stops when a stranger enters, not unlike a very rural Irish pub.

This dish is essentially crisped cubes of potato with thin slices of cured ham and eggs that are just set. It’s a Spanish form of bacon, egg and chips, I suppose, and here the potato element was rather chiplike. And none the worse for that. This was a lovely, simple warming dish on a cold January day.

Well-fed at this stage we nevertheless managed to share a generous slice of proper baked Spanish cheesecake (€6.50), intensely rich, creamy and eggy and cooked to absolute perfection. This is the very definition of sweet comfort food, almost on a par with Simon Hopkinson’s Ultimate Rice Pudding that I feature this week.

We ate well at Mr Croqueta and probably more than was absolutely necessary for sustenance but we had the place to ourselves and the attention of an enthusiastic kitchen. They seemed pleased that we wanted to explore the menu quite thoroughly and service, notwithstanding the sherry bypass, was friendly and highly efficient.

Yes, Mr Croqueta is a little eccentric but it had only just opened when we visited. It’s a lovely addition to a great Spanish shop where you can get all manner of Iberian stapes and specialities, served with charm and knowledge.

Now with hot food on the premises, it’s really worth a visit.

Mr Croqueta may upset some purists, I should mention. It does variations on the classic tortilla, including one with cheese and ham that will have the conservatives in conniptions. As for me, I’ll be back. And I reckon I might just try one but not before I’ve revisited the excellent croquetas. Hopefully with a glass of dry sherry.